The Butt-Kickery of Gale Hawthorne
by haleyisafangirl
Summary: Gale Hawthorne kicks butt in District 12 after the end of the Quarter Quell. Oneshot.


When the broadcast turned off, his senses turned on in overdrive. All Gale could think was that something was desperately wrong. After a few moments of static the Gamemakers got enough sense to broadcast the Capitol logo with "Technical Difficulties" underneath it, but that didn't mean anything was okay. In fact, that meant things were far from it. The Games didn't have any technical difficulties. They really didn't have any difficulties; at least, not until Katniss showed up.

Gale's first instinct told him to find Prim and Mrs. Everdeen, because they were more likely to be prime targets. _Of what?_ his mind asked, reminding him that all was still retaining the semblance of calm. _I've at least got to check on them_, he argued with himself. After all, the power going out in the arena probably wasn't an auspicious sign for Katniss's fate. Her family was likely in hysterics, not knowing whether she had survived or what the Capitol would do to her if she had.

Gale commanded his family to hide in the basement and shoved his arms into the sleeves of a black jacket before heading outside. The deserted streets were eery as the wind blew trash and dead leaves around in little swirls at his feet. He heard what sounded like crowds gathering a few streets over, but ignored it. Regardless of what riots were forming, he had to get to the Everdeens. He had to protect Katniss's family. It was his responsibility, keeping the promise he had made to Katniss right after she had been Reaped the first time. He kept his head down on the familiar walk to the Victors Village, knowing full well that the Capitol had eyes and ears everywhere. Just being out in the current uncertain state of things was dangerous. The scars on his back, stinging with the biting wind, reminded him of that danger all too well.

The Everdeens were startled when he barged in the front door, forgetting decorum in light of potential tragedy, but they quickly recovered when they saw that it was just Gale and not a Peacekeeper. "Gale, what happened?" Prim whispered, panicked, as she rushed forward to hug him. He smoothed her hair down to have something to do as he attempted words of comfort. "It's okay, Prim. It's okay."

"Gale, what about your mother?" Mrs. Everdeen asked, looking somewhere near his chin but avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"It's okay; they're hiding," he insisted, letting go of Prim. "How are you both holding up?"

But they didn't get a chance to answer. The sound of hovercrafts overhead interrupted Mrs. Everdeen as she made her feeble attempt at speech. Boots were heard landing on the ground and marching off in all directions. Sharp, short sounds of destruction and death began to pierce the air, the gunshots and bomb blasts mingling with strangled cries for help. Gale turned anxiously to Mrs. Everdeen and Prim. "Hide," he ordered, and they were just beginning to scramble for the cover of a closet when Peacekeepers burst through the doors. They were armed and looking lethal, and Gale made the first of many split-second decisions that day. He wrapped his arms around Mrs. Everdeen and Prim to shove them toward the back door, and once they understood where to go, they ran.

Peacekeepers marched through the streets, executing civilians at random while only a few had the courage to fight back. As Gale and the Everdeens struggled through the crowds, they saw the few areas where the rioting had broken out, causing the descent of the Peacekeepers. Rioters were using anything they could get their hands on as weapons, but to no avail. Peacekeepers were better equipped and better fighters.

For just a second, Gale lost sight of Prim in the crowd, and a wave of panic swept over him. When he finally relocated her blonde braids amidst the hordes of crazed citizens, she was on the ground, clutching an ankle. They had no time to stop and tend to injuries, so he crouched down in front of her and hoisted her onto his back. They carried on.

They caught up to one of his friends from the mines at the same time that they passed Gale's neighborhood. In the rush of adrenaline, he had forgotten to take care of his own family. The Everdeens watched him pause with concerned faces, and Gale's concern matched theirs as he weighed his options. He could not abandon his own family, but he could not abandon the Everdeens either. The Hawthorne basement couldn't fit everyone, but the Everdeens couldn't just wait in the street. "Gale," his friend half-shouted over the din. "I'll take them. You go get your own family."

Gale nodded once. "Meet me by the fence," he said, and without another word he sprinted off toward his home.

But it was too late.

He arrived just in time to hear the cry of his little brother as he was slaughtered. Peacekeepers thudded up the stairs, chuckling to themselves about the "pathetic little family," and Gale's head filled to the brim with just one thing: rage.

When the Peacekeepers came up to the ground level, Gale was ready for them. He had grabbed a kitchen knife and used it to stab the torso of the first pure-white uniform he saw. Yanking the dead man's gun off of his limp body before the others could process what was happening, he fired at least twenty consecutive shots down the staircase. All the Peacekeepers fell to the ground at odd angles, some sliding down a few steps before finally coming to rest. He grabbed another gun off another one of the dead and stomped out the door, adrenaline pumping and destructive instincts winning out over everything else in his body.

He walked, then jogged, then ran full on at the site of the earlier riots. Fights were still occurring, and he joined in wholeheartedly. Gunning down a few Peacekeepers, he whirled to face any that might be threatening him from behind. "For my family!" he cried as one ran forward brandishing a blade and Gale thrust the butt of his gun into his chin. The man was soon trampled in favor of the upright opponents, and Gale didn't even waste a second watching the terror fill his eyes and blood run down his face. He pivoted again, saw two Peacekeepers charging him at once, and landed a kick in the chest to the closer one as he fired two shots into the heart of the farther one. Both fell to the ground, but the one who had been kicked needed a bashing on the head to do the trick. Gale moved on, whirling to his left and firing on a Peacekeeper, whirling to the right and delivering a roundhouse kick and uppercut punch to another one, turning backwards and shooting two more, turning around again and head-butting yet another one. As Peacekeepers fell to the ground around him, more showed up to take their places, and he didn't mind as long as they could be killed. That was his only desire.

But who knows how long into the fighting, he was stopped in his tracks of destruction: a little girl in pigtails was standing right in front of him, screaming by the body of her father. Gale was reminded with a pang of guilt of the Everdeens, forgotten in his rampage to avenge his family. He took down a few more Peacekeepers on his way out of the crowd, then reluctantly ran down every back alley and side street he knew to get to the fence undetected. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to turn around and fight back, but he couldn't betray Katniss. Even running through the streets he could see the two different looks that she would give: the disappointment that would appear if he let her family down, and the gratitude that would appear if he succeeded. It would be worth denying every violent urge if he just got to see that look on her face.

He finally caught up with the Everdeens and his friend from the mines, and they found a big enough gap in the fence to squeeze through. He kept a watchful eye out as they ran hurriedly through the forest, but as time went on the group relaxed. They were far from safe, but they were out of the most imminent danger. Once Gale found a relatively safe clearing, he left the Everdeens there and went back to collect others out of the burning District Twelve, rushing them into the woods. Many were saved because of his bravery and selflessness, and most eventually joined the rebel group in District Thirteen.

But despite the control he gained over his emotions during the last hours of the District Twelve Catastrophe, Gale Hawthorne now had a bitterness that would remain forever. His heart was full of anger, and his hate would only be assuaged by one thing: seeing the blood of his enemies dribble down their chins as the light went out of their eyes and they greeted death.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was a story written for my dad. He joked with me about writing Gale fanfiction after we watched Catching Fire the other day, so I kind of did it just to prove I could. I tried to make it super action-heavy because that's what he wanted, but it's like Gale was just crying out at me for at least a little character development. Sometimes characters have a mind of their own and enslave my keyboard. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I'll be back to my usual Marauders-loving self with a bunch of new stuff for the summer :) thanks!**

**Sincerely, haleyisafangirl**


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